The Scandal
by tomfuckery-afoot
Summary: "Impossible loves, I am very much afraid that they can become an addiction." A glimpse inside the minds of Cesare and Lucrezia throughout season 3
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own The Borgias or any of these characters. I haven't done fanfiction in a long time so please don't expect this to be too good. Thanks ;)**

* * *

Lucrezia could not stop her mind from wondering to Cesare's words. What they had meant, the fire in his eyes as he said them and the way that his lips had come down upon her as if to confirm what had already been implied.

It was wrong, she knew. Cesare was her brother. He was her most _beloved_ brother. There was no one she trusted more than him. And she had seen him as only her brother her whole life.

How had it happened? When had such conversations come to mean so much more than what was on the surface? Lucrezia touched her bottom lip, the one that had touched his, thinking back to that encounter...

* * *

 _ **Flashback** _

_She stepped into the armory with a sense of grace that did not seem suited for such a hardened place. "You are off to negotiate my dowry, Brother?" Lucrezia felt her hands shake with anticipation. "With his uncle?" she spit it out like it was poison._

 _Cesare acknowledged her and then looked back to the wall in front of him, as if he could not bear to hold her gaze. "The king of Naples, yes." He grumbled out as the servants worked to fit his new, golden armor._

 _Beginning to falter, she rested her hand on the table to hold herself up. "So," she barely kept her voice from shaking, "must I trade one love for another?" She managed to look up to see him already looking back at her._

Don't you dare look away _, she thought bitterly,_ not now _._

 _He stiffened upon meeting her gaze. "Leave us." He growled._

 _The servants hurried off without hesitation. "My lord," one whispered, barely audibly as he left the room._

 _Cesare took a step closer to her. "Do you mean me, for him?" Nerves grew in his stomach as he spoke. It was wrong to wish more of her than what they already had. They were closer than any one else in their family. Some might speculate that they were too close. Cesare had begun to wonder the same, as he felt his heart skip a beat when he thought that she may feel the same._

 _A brief and small smile graced her lovely lips and she stepped directly in front of him, placing her hand on his breast plate._

 _She locked eyes with him once again and grinned. "That too." loving the way she could feel his chest tighten at her words._

 _He looked away from her and stared straight ahead as she began removing his armor. "Then what_ _ **do**_ _you mean?"_

 _Lucrezia held her breath for a moment. "I mean my son, Giovanni. His… presence in Naples might be unwelcome." She took his shoulder piece and sat it on the shelf on the far wall of the room._

" _Ah, I could have seen that coming." Cesare sighed deeply. Yet another problem that had fallen to him to sort out. He did want to give Giovanni a good life. And he wanted nothing more than for Lucrezia to be happy but this would cause many problems and they both knew it._

 _She looked at him for a moment, baffled by his attitude and then sauntered over to him, beginning to remove his other shoulder piece._

" _The king of Naples feels that one cannot carry into one marriage, baggage from the last." She huffed as she roughly pulled off the armor._

" _Is your son baggage to you?" Cesare gave her a questioning look which she countered with defensiveness._

" _No," she answered quickly. "He is the light of my life." Giving him an earnest look._

 _He knew too well, how much Lucrezia's child meant to her. She had proven that time and time again._

" _Well, you could insist." He spoke, hoping to sooth her worries in any way he could._

" _I will." She nodded. "As must you." She stepped away again to set the other shoulder piece on the shelf. "But… you must make the case for the son of a stable boy in a royal household."_

 _Just as she turned back around Cesare grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him. "Listen. You are Lucrezia Borgia. You are scandal of Italy."_

 _She puffed out a small laugh. "You are also the envy of Italy, and soon to be a princess of Aragon." He stared at her, burning holes through her, but she couldn't look away._

 _He let go of her hand as his nostrils flared. "Whoever gets in the way of your happiness will meet my wrath."_

 _Cesare stepped closer and grabbed her chin lightly. She began to breathe heavily despite her every effort to keep her chest from heaving._

 _His eyes were like the sun, blinding, intense but she couldn't look away. They grew darker as he spoke. "We are the unholy family." He groaned out lowly._

 _Heat rushed to her center as his hot gaze fell on her lips. He knew he shouldn't but at that moment, her bright eyes boring into him, his heart swelling at the sight of her, he couldn't resist._

 _He grazed his lips across hers, nudging at her mouth with his own. Pulling away from her with a sigh, he watched her eyes open slowly, as if she could not leave that feeling behind just yet._

" _Let him know that." He gave her chin a little affectionate touch and she steadied herself with a great deal of trouble._

* * *

So here she sat, naked on her bed, waiting for the dress maker to come and fit her wedding gown. And all she could think about was Cesare and how he loved to toy with her.

He had avoided her since that day however. Possibly because he was ashamed by the way that he had acted. She wished that it was not thus. He was the only one who could comfort her. The only one she felt safe with.

There were three knocks on her door. She looked up from her hands suddenly.

"Lucrezia." A muffled voice sounded outside the door to her bedroom but she knew it well.

"Is that my brother?" her heart raced.

"Yes." She heard him say.

Her body shuddered. "Brother who loves me?"

"The same." He said in his deep, gruff voice.

She grinned evilly then. He was not the only one who could play games. And she was very lonely as of late. Perhaps God himself had sent Cesare to be her solace on this afternoon. And who was she to refuse a gift from God?

She looked over her naked body and adjusted herself so that the skirts of the large dress she was clutching covered the naughtiest parts of her. "Come in then, see my wedding gown." She said.

He opened the door and stepped in, freezing when he saw her. She smiled at him but he couldn't see it, he was busy looking elsewhere.

Stiffening, he felt heat drip slowly to his member, despite himself. "God-", He looked away, "uhm…" he turned around as if to leave but he hesitated for just a moment and Lucrezia caught onto it.

"Come closer, Brother." He turned to her slowly and met her eyes, wishing with all his might that he had not seen her like this and wishing even more that he had not felt the grasp of undeniable lust in the same moment.

"My gown," she felt the material, "Do you approve?" she purred, raising her eyebrow and looking at him. She would win this game if it was the last thing she did.

He nodded, his eyes glazing over. "Gold is, uh- divine." He looked away from her again and at the door, hesitating for a moment and then closing it behind him, unsure and vulnerable for what was perhaps the first time in his life.

He turned back around, unable to help his gaze from reaching over the expanse of her. Then feeling guilty promptly after. "I-I-I should leave, Sis." He pointed helplessly at the door.

"Why?" She caught his gaze and would not let it go. "Am I ugly, Brother?" she gave him an amused look.

He gave her a heated one. "The man who makes that claim will lose his tongue."

She smiled at that, knowing that she already had him where she wanted him. He watched her every movement, captured in her grace and her beauty. She raised her leg and he watched attentively.

"My foot. It is ungainly." She held back a laugh at his dumbfounded expression. "Too large perhaps-"

He cut her off, "Your foot is beautiful." He huffed, clearly lost and confused.

She sat up slightly. "But you can't tell from there. Feel it."

Cesare's eyes darted around the room as if looking for some hint that this was all a jest, a laugh at his expense. But he found nothing. As far as he could tell, his dear sister, Lucrezia was asking him to touch her. And how could he refuse, when all he ever wished for was her happiness?

So he stepped forward slowly and hesitated before her. They looked at each other and he grasped her foot gently. "Is this a game?" he asked her as he stoked her foot with the back of his hand.

"It is a game of want, and wanting." She gasped out, wishing that he would touch her somewhere else of his own accord. Perhaps he would need some further urging on that front.

"The toes are… splayed… a little." She watched him as she spoke. "God has made better feet, I am sure."

He shook his head. "Not that I have found."

She laughed a little and smiled at him. "You are a connoisseur of feet?"

"Yes," he laughed, "and I have found none better."

She straightened again. "My calf," she spoke and his hand moved to her leg, making her tighten with exhilaration. Perhaps she would win him over yet. "Is it elegant?" She sucked in a breath. "Is it smooth?"

He let go and stepped away, guilty again. How she had managed to get him here, in this state, was beyond him. It had become very clear that she had control over him that neither of them had discovered until this moment.

"What is this game, Sis?" he asked again, hoping this time he would get a real answer, rather than riddles.

She sighed and readjusted herself on the bed, lying on her side, facing him. Propping herself up with her elbow, she spoke. "My betrothed… will not bed me. He will not touch me." She laughed humorlessly, looking down to her dress, still beside her on the bed. "He is a virgin."

Cesare marveled at her beauty, eyes wondering from her face to her breasts, to her hips, her legs and all the way back up, feeling like he might explode, regretting his decision to ask her about the game they had been playing. The answer had not been what he was prepared for.

"You have the means to… change that history, I am sure." He grumbled, jealous perhaps, but he would never admit it.

She stared at him, eyes bright and expecting. "Are you sure?" She grinned, reaching for him and grabbing his shirt, pulling him onto the bed with her, "that this body has… the necessary charms?"

"I am certain." He caught her eyes with his own hotly, unable to look anywhere else with the sound of her voice purring in his ears. He had no idea how badly he needed her until now, and how remorseful it made him to think of her in such ways.

Lucrezia touched his shirt, playing with the fabric. "He has made a vow to Saint Agnes, patron saint of purity, to remain chaste until married."

She looked at Cesare's lips, wanting very badly to take them in her own.

"Unwise…" he speculated, trying with all his might to keep from touching her. But he could feel himself giving in. And he didn't know if he minded it anymore.

Running her fingers through Cesare's hair, she grabbed his face with her hand, tears welling up in her beautiful, bright eyes. "I am a Borgia… And I feel unloved." Her voice faltered a little as she could no longer fight off the tears.

"Positively foolish…" he mumbled, unable to feel anything but her fingers on his throat, choking and caressing him in sickening unison. His gaze once again fell to her porcelain skin, the smooth expanse of her.

She followed his gaze, heart swelling with hope. _Kiss me, kiss me…_ she thought over and over.

"You look but don't touch." A single tear fell from her eye. She couldn't wait for him any longer. Her heart would surely break free of her ribcage if it grew any bigger.

He drew closer to her, their breaths coming together to dance between them. Her lips begged him for release. And just as their eyes closed and their lips touched a harsh knock sounded at the door. He scampered away from her and soon he was so far away it was as if it had never happened.

"Ugh," she groaned in despair. Regaining herself, smiling a fake smile for his sake as she rolled over onto her stomach.

He looked alarmingly like he had seen a ghost, holding his arms out to steady himself, his heart racing to catch up with his mind which had suddenly decided to stop working correctly.

She pointed half-heartedly at the door. "That will be the dress makers to fit my wedding dress." He nodded like he understood what she was saying but he certainly did not. His mind was stuck on her lips, her skin so soft and delicate.

She looked at him, grinning a little, unable to help it. He was speechless, still gazing lustfully at her body.

"You must leave us, Brother. For delicacy sake." She grinned even wider when he stared off at her, not moving, seemingly entranced.

He sucked in a breath and re-entered reality with a jolt. "Yes, of course…" he quickly turned to leave, opening the door as she watched him.

Turning to her one last time as he shut the door, he gave her a look of question and confusion.

* * *

Lucrezia had been staring at the wedding placements for so long she had begun to doubt that she knew what she was looking at. So many important lords and ladies to map across the great chess game that was her latest marriage. How was she to know how or where the pieces moved?

She thought of Cesare. She had only seen him once since his return from Naples and that was when he had told her that the king would not allow her son to join her there. She had been angry then, and she now regretted how she had lashed out at him.

* * *

 ** _Flashback_**

" _Am I so hard to love?" she had said. A rhetorical question but Cesare had answered all the same._

" _No. No, my love." He grabbed her, turning her around to look at him._

" _Rome is the peak of the world. And we are at its pinnacle." She spoke bitterly, tears threatening to fall as she turned her back to him. "And still no matter w-which way I turn, I still can't seem to find that which will make me truly happy." She almost yelled._

 _She turned on him then, as if to accuse him. "Why can I not be happy?"_

 _He spoke before she could think of anything else, holding her again, like he knew exactly what she needed. "I will make you happy." He whispered it, perhaps afraid that if spoken too loudly it would float into the air and be heard by those who would see it as scandal. "I promise." He swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing away the strong urge to reach down and kiss her deeply. Tell her he loved her and that no one else would ever be enough for him._

 _Her tears fell now, refusing to be held back any longer. But he held her as she rested her forehead on his chin. He held her, wishing that he could do more than this for her. Wishing that he could be the one to deliver her all of the happiness she so desired and deserved._

* * *

"My lord," she heard a servant speak behind her, but she did not turn around. She knew who it must have been when he tapped her earring with his finger playfully.

"I placed you here, as you see." She pointed at the paper with his name on it. ' _Cesare Borgia', it read,_ in cursive writing. "At **my** side." And there her name was on another paper, directly next to it, ' _Lucrezia Borgia'._

Her throat began to constrict, heart hurting. "I see it." He said behind her..

She thought for a moment, unsure of whether to speak or not. "Are you?" Lucrezia turned around to face him.

He looked surprised for a moment to see tears in her eyes. Surprised that she would ask him such things, as if he would be anywhere else. "Wha- of course. At your side?" He drew in a short breath, locking eyes with her.

He continued, "Whatever happens, France, Spain, Naples. They can crumble to dust for all I care." She smiled brightly. "As long as you…" he trailed off, looking at her lips. And this time, the beast in him would be calmed. She found her gaze on his lips as well.

And before she knew it he was kissing her, her back pressed against the board, his lips so soft and so rough all at once. Her mind overwhelmed with lust and love and affection greater than any other she had experienced before.

She moaned into his mouth and he cradled the back of her head as she grabbed onto his shoulders, finding herself unable to rebuke him.

His world shuddered as he melded his lips to hers, feeling kingdoms rise and fall, Gods worshiped and forsaken all in the seconds that he held her there. A glorious joining of souls that had long been parted. But then came the guilt.

His eyes opened to see hers still closed and he ripped himself away from her before he lost the will to. He shook his head several times, coming back to reality. "Forgive me." He begged.

She huffed out a breath and sucked in another, finding it difficult to breathe the air which had suddenly become very thick. Tears sprang up again at the sudden feeling of rejection. He would go to France, find himself a bride and leave her again. She knew this all too well and it stung. How it **stung** to watch him cast her off now. Now, when she needed him most.

He glanced at her and then looked away immediately. He couldn't stand seeing tears that he had caused. He stomped out of the room as quickly as he could without running, leaving her alone with a flood of heartache and affection to drown her.

* * *

So, there had been a wedding. And there had been yet another rejection directly proceeding it. Alfonso had left Lucrezia, unwilling to bed her still, despite their being married.

And why would he have wanted to? He had figured out finally that their marriage, regardless of whether or not he loved her, was a political, a strategic maneuver on a very large chess game. A gambit that Alfonso had yet to understand until that night.

But he had understood, hadn't he? That he was nothing more than a chess piece, just like all the rest of them. The only difference was that no one quite knew where he stood on the board.

Lucrezia knew where Cesare stood, however. He was perhaps the only one who was at her side, regardless of where the other pieces moved. Her only hope was that he would remain there.

And yet, despite his promise to make her happy, she felt only grief. Only loneliness, even more than before. And where could she go? Who could she find solace in other than the one person who was forbidden her? Yet still, for all this scandal and impropriety, he was the only one who she wanted right then. He was the one whose touch would soothe her wounds.

When she reached Cesare's room, she quietly undressed herself and crawled into his bed touching his bare shoulder lightly and drawing back his blankets to find him naked. He woke suddenly and turned on her, covering his groin as best he could.

He met her eyes, dumbfounded and still waking. "What on God's Earth?" he sat up staring at her as she began to remove her night dress.

"Am I so hard to love?" she asked him softly. Rhetorical still, just as the first time she had asked. This time he did not answer. He couldn't help but look at her breasts as she removed the last piece of material hiding them from sight.

He shook his head in disbelief, begging her with his eyes to stop now, while he still had his wits about him. "N-no, Lucrezia, you cannot-"

"But I must." She grabbed his hands in her own and placed them on her breasts, holding them there. "Only a Borgia, it seems, can truly love a Borgia." She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over his throat before she placed it there, caressing him.

"They already whisper it of us, throughout the whole of Italy." She said, holding his gaze as he struggled to look away but found it impossible. "Why deny ourselves the pleasure of which we are already accused?" she stroked his cheek.

She couldn't wait for him to make the first move any longer. Lucrezia leaned in to kiss him and he pulled back. "Your husband…" he denied her still, when all he wanted to do was feel her. His manhood had already given up any chance of denying her. He would soon follow.

She grabbed his face with both her hands and smiled at him. "You will be my husband. Tonight." A tear fell from her freckled cheek.

They simply stared at each other for a few moments, his eyes like flames, licking her skin, burning her perhaps, but she couldn't feel it anymore. She only knew that she had waited a lifetime to see someone look at her the way he was in that moment and she loved him for it.

Lucrezia leaned in once again, slowly, so not to scare him off. He knew now that refusing her would only bring them both suffering. And he didn't want to refuse her anymore. She pulled back to re-position herself and he pushed forward to meet her mouth again.

Straddling him, she pushed him into her, feeling him deeper than anyone had ever been before. She slowly rocked her hips on his member, savoring the feeling of him inside of her. He kissed her finally, like he had always longed to. Not lightly like the first time, not harshly like the day she had inquired about his allegiance to her. He just kissed her, profoundly and affectionately.

Her breathing became uneven and heavy. She took handfuls of his hair, mouthfuls of his lips. His tongue brushed against her lips, his hips moving to meet hers as she tightened around him.

She leaned back and Cesare kissed down her chest, caressing the soft skin of her breast. Lucrezia could have done this exact thing a thousand times with a thousand men and it would never have meant what this meant. It would never satisfy her like this did. It would never make her as happy as this did, as Cesare did.

He moaned into her skin, moving faster, falling into a rhythm, both their hearts racing and pounding and breaking at the thought that the moment would ever have to end. They pulled away to stare hotly at one another.

Lucrezia leaned closer to kiss him again, pulling back to smile at him, and he smiled too, both happy for the first time in quite a long time. And how could that be so wrong? She bit his bottom lip softly, soothing it with her tongue and they both found release, gasping as she constricted around his member, muffling each other's moans of ecstasy in open mouthed kisses.

Cesare's head fell back to rest against the headboard, Lucrezia's head resting on his chest. He was still inside her, and neither dared to move, lest the moment be shattered into shards that would cut them while they slept.

So he wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her hair, and she held him close, knowing that as soon as she let go, he would be someone else's to embrace.

* * *

 **~Bailee**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Borgias' or any of these characters.**

 **Hey, Hey! So with this chapter I kind of took a theory I had on what happened right after SE3Ep3 and ran with it. I hope you enjoy, as I enjoy writing it.**

 **Thanks!**

* * *

When Cesare woke from his deep slumber, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a grave mistake. It was late at night, and Lucrezia lay on his bed, her head on his chest, her hand grasping his waste firmly like it was her anchor to this world.

Staring at her there, in the dim candle light, he couldn't think of any woman who was more beautiful, who struck the same kind of fear and longing in his heart as she did. His skin tingled where she touched him, his heart raced, his eyes fluttered open and shut, unsure of whether to stay closed or continue looking at her.

She would need to leave soon, go back to her own rooms before morning, when a servant might see her, or someone in the halls would notice her leaving his chambers.

But not now, he couldn't manage to wake her now. That was when she would want him to talk. To speak of their sin. And he could not speak of that. He couldn't even think it. What he felt for her was a seed of the devil planted inside both of them. And yet it felt so right, so entirely perfect to be with her, even just like this, wrapped up in each other, waking up with her in his bed.

She murmured something incoherent and he kept his hands glued to the bed, willing himself not to touch her.

Lucrezia woke with a drowsy feeling, like she'd slept for years. Eyes, roaming the area around her, the first thing she noticed was the firm chest beneath her chin. She stilled, looking down to find her hand on a hip. And then wakefulness was upon her. She turned her head to face Cesare, looking up at him, afraid of what she might find in his haunting eyes.

Love?

Passion?

Regret? That seemed most likely. He spent every second he could denying her, and now that he had actually given in, it was only reasonable to assume that he would be remorseful. _Especially_ now.

But he was frozen, like he was pinned in place by some invisible force. He lay there, gawking at her in bewilderment.

For a few tense moments, they stared at one another, her hands on him, and his hands anywhere _but_ on her.

"Cesare…" she whispered, flooding the silence with the one word that could truly drown him. His name on her lips. It was such a small act, in comparison to the one that they had performed hours before, but it meant so much more than what it appeared to.

Lucrezia searched his face for something, anything other than this contempt, but she could find nothing.

He shook his head, mouth quivering ever so slightly. "I-I…" he began to speak but stopped abruptly, afraid of what he would reveal by opening his mouth. But when he looked at her, saw what his reaction had done to her, the pain it was causing her, he couldn't stand it. "Lucrezia…" what could he do? What could he say that would make this okay?

She watched him intently, praying silently for him to say something. Something that would not leave her aching. "I see words have... escaped you, Brother." She looked down, tracing the freckles on his chest. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes but she would not allow them to.

"Lucrezia, this… what happened… this cannot happen again." He tried to catch her gaze but she would not look at him. "Lucrezia, please," he touched her chin gently, pushing her face upward so that she would look at him. "Do you understand?"

She didn't. She didn't understand. All she understood was that he was once again rejecting her. She laughed humorlessly, causing him to stiffen under her hands.

"Of course, for the good of the family. Is that right, Dear Brother?" She sat up, not bothering to cover herself.

He sat up too and threw his hands down onto his lap. The dim light cast shadows on his face that made him look every bit the menace that all of Italy thought him to be. Sometimes Lucrezia wondered if he truly was.

"Yes, for the good of the family. Please tell me you understand, My Love." Cesare felt like he had been stabbed. Like the blade had been twisted inside his chest.

Her gaze was direct, her chin down as she stared into his eyes with a darkness he had seen in her very few times. In a low, shaky voice, she spoke, "Am I not your family?"

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes and turning his head away from her. This hurt her most of all. He could not even look at her while he broke her heart.

Moments passed by like hours until she felt like screaming at him. Saying _"look at me! Look at how you've ruined me!"_

But she couldn't make a sound. And he still couldn't look at her. So, they sat there, in his bed, with his mussed sheets and moments that would all too soon become memories.

He was still looking down at his hands, "You… should leave. Before-"

" _Fine,_ if you are so very eager to be rid of me." She hissed so venomously that he winced.

She began to leave the bed, turning her back to him, hating to look at him, afraid that he may finally look back at her, and see that tears had finally broke free, despite her every effort to keep them at bay.

He thought that this was what he wanted, he knew this was what needed to happen, but when he saw the beautiful porcelain skin of her back, when he saw her finally walking away from him, as he had so often done to her, he couldn't let her go.

Cesare grabbed her forearm, jerking her back around. He took her other forearm and held her so tightly that she was sure it would leave marks if he did not let go soon. But his gaze was so hot, it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered.

He saw the tears in her eyes and sighed, wiping them away with his thumb when they spilled out. He pressed his forehead to hers, gazing at her feverishly.

"It is a dream, Lucrezia. It can never be. If it could…" He closed his eyes, breaths becoming shallow as he thought of what he might have said next.

Her eyes clenched shut tight for a moment, tears falling freely. Her hands were in his curly hair now. She gripped it tightly and forced his head up, his eyes opening to fall on hers. And in that moment, when he saw her eyes, even brighter when they were rimmed with redness, glossy with tears. He could have sworn he saw her soul leave her body, his doing the same, he saw them weeping together just above their heads, weeping for them.

"Ughf," she made a noise that sounded so indignant, it nearly shattered what little resolve he had mustered.

Outside, the blackness of the sky had begun to soften, and traces of dawn were peeping in to bring light to what they had done.

Lucrezia brought her puffy lips to his before he could refuse. She touched them to the side of his mouth, gently but firmly, just for a moment, but just a second longer and Cesare would've been kissing her, pressing her into the bed and showering her with his irrefutable affection.

But she released him first, pushing herself off the bed, and dressing herself as best she could with no one to help her, and he watched every movement.

For a split second when she first stood from the bed to expose her full and perfect body, he looked away for fear of being indecent. The thought was almost laughable now, but he couldn't help it.

When she had finished, she took a few more steps to the door, her hand on it, ready to open it and leave, but his gaze on her back made her pause. Her heart ached so deeply at the thought of leaving him that she could scarcely stomach it.

She turned around to see him there, on the bed, light framing his sculpted body. When she caught his eyes, she saw something in them that she recognized, something that was in her own when she looked in the mirror.

Loneliness.

She tore her gaze away and left him, gathering her shoes from the eerily vacant hall with unsteady hands

But still, it rattled her to her very core, the thought of what had transpired between them. The thought that it would be the last time.

She could only hope that it would _not_ be the last time.

* * *

Cesare had spent all morning trying very hard to push Lucrezia to the back of his mind, but it seemed that no matter where he went, she would follow. And he could not deny that it was almost a comfort at times. To turn a corner and see her, to know that she was safe at every second. But now, he wished with all his heart that his presence was not the very thing that summoned her.

Because there she was, walking toward him, with none other to witness the encounter than the Holy Father himself.

"Ah!" He shouted, motioning her towards them. "The new bride finally appears." Their father kissed her cheeks.

Cesare looked away, trying to keep his gaze from falling on her, or their father. How had he come to be so cursed, that such misfortune as this would fall upon him at this moment, so soon after what they had done?

"How are you, My Dear?" the Holy Father asked her, smiling, "Are you well?"

She breathed a small laugh, smiling back at him. "Yes, Father." She answered as he grabbed her hands.

"Married life suits you?" He watched and waiting for her answer, but all she could do was smile, breathe in a breath of the thick air and nod.

"Last night brought you everything… desired?" he asked, and she blushed profusely.

Cesare's eyes grew very dark, and he hoped that no one noticed his blush as well. He stared at her, her mouth gaping open, their father unaware of how close he was to the truth with just one small question.

Last night _had_ brought her everything she wanted.

And everything Cesare had wanted.

She looked down at her dress skirts, a nervous laugh escaping her soft, pink lips.

"Oh," Their father chuckled, grasping her chin and forcing her to look at him once again. But her eyes were on Cesare's now, and they now had trouble looking elsewhere. "We brought a blush to your cheeks, look, Cesare, your sister." He chuckled again. "Blushing bride." And pinched her nose affectionately before leaving Cesare and Lucrezia alone in the Vatican halls, facing one another, eyes searching for something.

But all they found were pieces of themselves, hidden inside each other. When her stare was too direct for him to stand any longer, Cesare quickly sauntered away, following their father.

She sighed and began walking in the other direction, wondering if they would ever be headed the same way again.

* * *

Lucrezia was in bed, that night, waiting. Just like she had when she was married before. And she prayed she would not meet the same fate. Her heart nearly stopped when she recalled the cruelness of rough hands on her body. She could not live that way again.

The door opened, and someone entered. "Are you awake?" He asked. It was Alfonso.

She held her breath for a moment, "Yes."

He stepped closer to the bed, and looked at her. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for last night." He said in a smooth, quiet voice.

He would've been so soothing, so calming. So terribly easy to fall in love with, if she had the capacity to love anyone else.

"I wish it never happened." He said. And he meant it, she could tell. The lashing out, the anger. She remembered well.

When he had seen his place setting on the wedding arrangements, where Cesare had marked it with a question mark.

" _Is this what I am to your brother? Is this what I am to your family?"_

He yelled at her, he stormed out. And she knew he regretted it. He wasn't a bad man, he was in fact, a very good man. _Too good for a Borgia._ She thought.

She turned her head to look at him, standing by the bed, just waiting for her invitation. And she felt guilty too. For loving another, when he was so very worthy of love, himself. So she drew back the covers next to her, beckoning him in.

He grinned widely, a gesture which she returned, for his sake. Alfonso hastily climbed into the bed and faced her. "Can we pretend it never happened and start anew?" His hopeful face was too much to deny, so she touched the side of his face, which he took as 'yes' and kissed her.

She felt she owed him that at least, so she leaned in to kiss him deeper, regretting it all the while. He sat up and undressed, falling back down onto Lucrezia like a heavy stone. But just as he was about to slip inside of her, she remembered what she had said to Cesare what seemed so long ago.

" _I will never love a husband as I love you, Cesare."_

Spoken ages before, when she was so innocent and pure. But she didn't know. Didn't know her own heart, or what it had done to Cesare's when she had spoken those words. And they still rang true today. Yet they meant such a different thing. And laying there with another man on top of her, she recalled how it felt to be pure, and free of stain or corruption, whether it be from the endless politics or the forceful touch of a man's rough hands.

All she knew was that with Cesare, she felt clean again. And with Alfonso so close to being inside her, she felt dirty.

She began to push him away. "I'm sorry- I cannot, I-", she closed her eyes, holding his face with one hand, so terrified to look up and see his pained expression.

"We're married now," he smiled and moved to kiss her again, "We're married…" he whispered as he pushed his lips on hers.

She tried hard to give him a genuine smile as she pushed him away again, holding both sides of his face. But the smile faded. "Last night…" she sighed, unsure of what to say next. Certainly not that she'd shared the company of another, especially not her brother. "S-something more happened than just… a question mark on a place setting…" she stared at him, concerned about what his reaction would be.

His brow furrowed, and she stroked his face. "What happened?" he asked, afraid himself.

He fell onto the bed next to her and she turned her head so that he could not see the tear slip down her cheek.

He faced her on the bed, "I don't understand, what else happened?"

She tried and failed to keep her breathing steady. Pain raked through her when she thought of her son, how his whole life, he would be cast out. She thought of her mother, who was put aside the moment a more interesting woman game along. She thought of Cesare. She thought of how he shared the ache of loneliness with her, for every moment they were apart. And she thought of herself.

How no matter who claimed to love her, no matter who promised her happiness, only one could deliver. The only one she was not allowed to love. What a cruel twist of fate that the half of her soul that was missing was with the one person who she could not have.

Was she meant to be half empty forever? Was he?

"A cloud descended on me," Alfonso raised his head, held in suspense by her words, "My heart…" she shook. How could she tell him without truly telling him?

She didn't have a chance to. He grabbed her hand and touched her chin, causing her to look at him. Then he put his hands under the blankets to touch her, "Let me lift it…" he mumbled as he ran his hand up her leg, but when he reached her inner thigh, she grabbed his hand, pulling her lips away from his.

"Can you feel nothing?" he asked, sad and angry all at once.

"I feel your hand." She said to him.

He looked down at the expanse of her, "Help me, to love you." He whispered to her, so earnestly she almost wanted to.

But she knew why she could not. She smiled gently and touched his hair. "Please just-", he struggled against her, not understanding why she would still rebuke him.

She shoved him onto his back and rested her hand across his chest, placing her head on the pillow next to his. "Maybe- maybe our love has to be more of the soul." She said. She touched his neck, smiling a little, but it was all she could muster.

He stared at her, baffled. "L-like… brother and sister?" he shook his head like he wasn't quite understanding.

She rested her head on his shoulder and played with the wispy hairs on his chest, thinking that maybe she could love him, just not the way he needed her to.

She laughed a small, humorless laugh at that. " _Like brother and sister"_

"No," She said while gave her a questioning look, "not like that."

He waited for moment, hoping that she'd say something to reassure him, but she did not. She could not. So he turned away from her to lay on his back, staring up at the canopy.

Sleep would not come easily for either of them.

* * *

The king of Naples entered the room where Cesare, the Pope, and Cardinal Sforza were awaiting his arrival.

What he had to say shocked them all.

"It is a marriage only in name."

"It's only been a few days!" Cesare said, outraged.

"Still, a few days, become a few weeks, and then come the lovers,"

"Do not speak of our daughter thus, you are a _guest_ here!" Cesare was relieved to find his father as outraged as he was.

They argued for a long while, both sides taking hits from the other.

The king of Naples spoke again, "Unless this is done, this marriage is a sham."

Cesare couldn't hold back his rage any longer. That was the woman he loved, his little sister that they spoke of as if she was a mere whore, to be traded and sold to the highest bidder. He would defend her to his last breath if he could.

"If it is unconsummated then whose fault is that?" the Pope yelled.

 _Mine._ Cesare thought warily. _God help me._ He rubbed the bridge of his nose, getting a headache.

"How am _I_ to tell?" the king asked.

"You tell me, you seem to know everything else!" the Pope held out his arms, fuming at the mere thought of what he was suggesting.

"I will tell you what I know," the king sat down in a chair, "I know that your daughter is married to my kinsman. _Now,_ he is an honorable man. Meanwhile, your daughter-" _,_ the Pope tried to interrupt but Cesare held him back, "has a son already, whose father is unknown."

Cesare lost it then. He loved that boy like he was his own child, for he very well could have been if things had been different. As if that wasn't bad enough he was dishonoring Cesare's beloved sister, the one person he would go to the depths of hell to retrieve if need be.

"You tread carefully, Sir." Cesare, pointed a finger in his face, nostrils flaring, eyes going wild with rage.

"I am careful, my _lord._ " The king huffed, waving him off. "I am careful of myself and my family. Now, I will see this marriage consummated, lest there be _any_ doubt, any confusion weeks or months hence."

"Just tell your little cousin to _get on with it!_ " Cesare bellowed, shaking, wishing to unleash his wrath upon this so called 'king'.

"No," he stood up, facing Cesare, "I will take no one's word in this matter. Do you understand? There must be proof."

Cesare's jaw tightened to the point that he thought he might break it. He looked at his father, who seemed to already suspect what Cesare feared.

"What do you mean, ' _proof'_?" the Pope asked.

* * *

Cesare stormed out of the room in a fury, his father proceeding. He slammed his fist into the wall, barely feeling it.

"It is a petty revenge for the sleight you gave him." his father said.

Cesare turned on him. "It is an insult to Lucrezia. It is an insult to _us_!" he stomped toward the Pope who grabbed his shoulders.

"Quiet yourself." Cesare breathed heavily, raging inside. "On how many fronts would you have us fight? And besides, there is a precedent."

"I will see him burn for this!" Cesare broke away and crossed the room, disgusted.

"There is a Precedent." His father called back. "It may stick in your gullet as it sticks in mine, but when all is said and done, he is in the right."

"You honestly think it matters one jot to me?" Cesare growled back. This was his sister. A Borgia. This was blasphemy.

"Well it should. It _must_. Would you have this alliance soured with Naples the moment it is struck?" Cesare stepped backwards.

His father once again forced him to think of the good of the family before thinking of his love for his sister and her child. And then he recalled what she had said a few days before, when he had told her, that turning her away was for 'the good of the family'.

" _Am I not your family?"_

The only real family he had, it seemed. And he had shrugged her off just like he had everything else that ever did him any real good.

But his father had to trust him. And he no longer would if Cesare opposed him on this matter. And that made him angrier than anything else. That he had to stay his hand, that not only could he not be with his Lucrezia, but he could not protect her, as her brother or anything else.

Cesare paced, knocking a bowl of fruit from the table, "Naples was and always will be an _infected swamp."_ He glared. "What about Lucrezia?"

The Pope shrugged and sighed, "She must be told." He looked down, regretting it clearly, but continuing with the plans nonetheless. "I will tell her." He began to leave the room but Cesare walked past him.

"No. No." He snarled. "I will."

* * *

After he told her, she sat at the table, staring at into the distance. He dreaded to know what she must have been thinking. She looked up at him, eyes gleaming with contempt, disgust. Hatred. He only hoped it was not directed at him.

"What… _perversion_ is this? You would put me on display for every… _vile, lecherous creature_ to fondle himself to?" her face shook with the words she held back.

Cesare was ashamed. He was sorry. There was nothing he wished for more than her happiness and he could not deliver. "We had no choice."

She stood up swiftly, lunging toward him. "Weak, _shameless, pitiful_ excuse!" she shoved him. "If I was a man, I would have run him through! I would have cut out his _tongue_ before I let him speak about my own _sister_ in this way."

He was stiffly looking down at her, trying his hardest not to grab her, hold her, tell her anything other than this horrible news, but here he was, doing his father's bidding at the expense of the one person he vowed never to hurt. "It was for the good of the family, we had no choice."

She struck him hard across the face, his head swinging to the side, his face stinging from the blow of her small hand. But it hurt less than her words. " _You had every choice!"_ she screeched at him, wanting to hurt him, wanting to make love to him. But she could only do one.

She watched his face for any sign of response but he did nothing, said nothing to defend himself. It pained her more than the thought of this _'consummation'_ to see that Cesare had nothing to say to her. No _"I will make you happy"_

Not this time.

She couldn't stomach it. She began hitting his chest, shoving him. "Where is your honor? Where is your strength?" he held out his hands to block her hits but he almost wanted her to hit him. He wanted her to feel better, better than this at least. "Where is your love for _me?"_

She began to cry, and as her hand came up to hit him again he grabbed her wrists. She struggled against him and his brow furrowed, his heart breaking at the sight of her, barely holding back tears of his own. "I love you!" she yelled at him but it was muffled as he pushed her back against the wall, holding her face firmly and kissing her. Not like any kiss that any two people had ever shared before. It was more than their bodies. It was his soul reaching out of his body to wrap around hers, healing it in whatever way it knew how.

She sobbed into his mouth, and he absorbed it all kissing her through the sting of despair. And this time, he didn't regret it.

They both knew that they needed it. His lips quivered as he spoke against her mouth, "I would have killed him where he stood." He took a breath, her heart beat all the way out of her chest and onto the floor at his feet. She prayed he would not step all over it.

When he pulled away he was shaking even more furiously, boring holes into her eyes with his own, begging her to understand. "But I stayed my hand for the good of the family." His voice was a rasping growl, coming from the beast that had been woken inside of him. The truth was, that beast had woken the moment she had been born. He saw her there, blue eyes and wisps of golden hair, and that was it for him. He would protect her, love her fiercely until they were both dead and cold, buried and forgotten. And beyond that.

She shoved away from him, getting a good amount of distance between them before turning around to face him again. He closed his eyes in silent agony. "So the king of Naples is to watch me in bed? For the good of the family?" she gasped in a humorless laugh.

She turned back around, getting a firm grip on her emotions before spinning around once more to look at Cesare. "Very well. Very well." She repeated herself, more resigned. "When is it to be?"

He brushed his hair out of his face. "Tonight." He hesitated.

She sighed. _So soon._ Moving to stand behind him, where he looked out the window absently, Lucrezia asked, "and from our family who is to bear witness?"

Gulping, he said, "Whomever you wish." croaking lowly.

 _Very well_ , she thought. If she had to suffer in this way, he would suffer just as well. She wiped her tears away and came to stand next to him at the window.

He turned his head toward her, wishing she would look at him, forgive him for this insult to her name. For this embarrassment that she must endure.

"Then I want you." She they locked eyes, alternative meaning behind the words. And he knew exactly what this was. Her revenge. And it had the effect she wished it to. He was grief stricken, petrified. Just as she was.

She sauntered out of the room, and that was when he allowed quiet sobs to escape him. Did she know what this would do to him? Did she know that seeing her with another would kill him? That was the intended effect wasn't it? To make him hurt?

But he already did.

* * *

 **I'd like to keep writing for this story but have kind of lost my inspiration so as of now this story is kind of complete I guess? I'm sorry, to those who may have been looking forward to more. I hope you enjoyed it, nonetheless. I am still proud of this story, even if it was shorter than I had wanted it to be. ~Bailee**


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